Mushroom picking

It was great staying in a caravan in the forest, though a little eerie.  At night you could hear the lonesome call of an owl.  We went foraging around a derelict church, gathering blackberries, where we disturbed a monkjack deer.  Down the lanes, I collected crab apples and some early sloes for sloe vodka.  I felt intune with all my forbears who have headed out into the late summer sun to gather what they can ahead of colder days.  On our last morning I took a walk across the fields and gathered mushrooms.  I have some sense about what I'm doing, I don't pick what I don't recognise, and mainly what I recognise are puffballs.  I felt exhilarated and so pleased to arrive back in suburbia with my crop.  I've gathered mushrooms before, but always chickened out when it came to eating them!  This time I sliced them finely, drizzled with olive oil and fresh basil.  They were so delicious!  None the less, I was convinced I would keel over, such is the power of folklore and our distance from nature.  I'm not sure if it was the mushrooms but I've been having the strangest dreams......

A fairytale inspired Folksy Friday

incywincystitches Little Red Set lobe Alice Sitting Natasha Morgan Alice in Wonderland Art Doll Paper Fish Plum Mushroom Charm Emma's Wolf Tin Moon Silent Theatre A dream within a dream Yasmin Bochi Mirror mirror on the wall earrings Hide n Seek Mom, this is my friend Penny Masquerade 'What big teeth you have' necklace